Knights Don't Have Snowball Fights
by thatdamfangirl23
Summary: The Knights of Camelot always make good use of their surroundings, especially when it's snow. In which the Knights definitely don't have a snowball fight.


****Here is yet another short one shot that I couldn't get out of my head and is purely crack. I mean, who doesn't love the knights? Also, I am tactfully ignoring anything which means I can't write about Lancelot (i.e: season 3 episode 13 - I'm still not over it. This is set in an indetermined timeframe in which everyone is alive, Arthur is king and nothing bad ever happened because they just deserve to be happy! On that note, enjoy!****

****disclaimer: I don't own merlin. It would end very differently if I did.****

Winter fell on Camelot as it did every year. Silent, cold and snowy. The people of the lower town went about their business, hindered slightly by the heavy snowfall and snowdrifts several feet deep. Children ran through the crowds, weaving as they went, sometimes stopped by a person who did not like being hit by a snowball coming from another child behind them. Laughter was in the air and all was unassuming and completely normal.

Those who ventured further out beyond the town, perhaps to gather rare winter herbs or visit the stream, which was frozen over and perfect for skating, would find themselves subject to cries and extremely masculine giggling from a small clearing in the nearby forest. Perhaps if they crept closer, they would be subject to a large ball of snow in the face, followed by a flash of red and a rather mortified knight of Camelot because, as was customary for these men, the knights were having a snowball fight.

It wasn't hard to puzzle out which knights were engaging in these altogether un-knightly activities. It certainly wasn't Sir Owain, and gods forbid if Sir Ector was ever caught picking up a snowball. Unsurprisingly, it was Gwaine who came to retrieve the snow and apologise to the poor unsuspecting person who was hit by his snowball. He was closely followed by Elyan who was laughing heartily.

The man who had been caught fled.

Still laughing, Elyan and Gwaine made their way back to the group of grown men who were hurtling balls of snow at each other. Percival, using his immense strength, lobbed one at Lancelot who, raising one perfect eyebrow, neatly sidestepped out of the way leaving a clear path to the one and only Arthur Pendragon. The previously mentioned king turned around slowly as characters in films do (not that any of them had any idea about dramatic acting techniques in films as they hadn't quite been invented yet). His face turned thunderous and he slowly and carefully bent down, glaring all the while. He gathered a small amount of snow, rolling it around on the ground until it became fairly large. He got back up, making a show of squeezing the ball to make it icy and deadly. Percival gulped. Arthur drew his arm back and threw as if he were throwing a javelin (something he was somewhat of an expert at). The snowball hit Percival squarely on the face and Arthur grinned with a self-righteous satisfaction. Gwaine burst into laughter and promptly got a face full of snow.

From the corner of the clearing came a slow clap, followed by another, and another, and another. Merlin walked into view, clapping in the sarcastic way that only Merlin could achieve. He rolled his eyes, the brows reaching heights that only Gaius could ever hope to match. After all, Merlin had leaned from the best.

"That was a brilliant show of courage, strength and honour." He drawled. "Aren't we on patrol or something?"

"Stop ruining the fun, Merlin!" Gwaine patted him roughly on the back and Merlin flinched very slightly.__Very. __Not at all if you asked him later.

"Yeah!" Percival said. "Why aren't you joining in?"

"Because I, unlike you, am vaguely aware of my age. And," he added, "I have no wish to get hit in the face with snow, get soaking wet and get an inevitable lecture from Gaius later when I catch a cold."

"Killjoy." Gwaine muttered. His face suddenly turned thoughtful. "That would make a good song." He said, not really talking to anybody. "Killjoys, make some noise." He began to hum a tune to himself. "Na na na na na na na na na na na na."

"Gwaine?" Elyan said.

"Yes?"

"Shut up."

"Are you done?" Merlin asked.

Arthur sighed. "I think," he said. "That Merlin here needs a bit of a punishment for being such a… how did you put it, Gwaine?"

"Killjoy, sire." Gwaine answered with a grin on his face.

"Thank you, Gwaine. Killjoy. I think, that you should stand there, in the middle of the clearing." Arthur gestured to a space. When Merlin didn't move, standing there with one eyebrow raised, Arthur shook his head. "Need I remind you that I am the king? I have no doubt you are already familiar with the stocks? Would you like to get reacquainted? You must miss each other."

Grumbling about the misuse of power, Merlin trudged over to Arthur's chosen point.

Said king grinned. "Get him."

The knights needed no further instruction. Soon snowballs were flying in from all directions and Merlin, with his natural clumsiness, was unable to dodge them. He cowered before the knights as they bombarded him with a steady stream of snowballs.

A peal of laughter came from Lancelot's direction; he had very nicely decided not to take part in the torture of Merlin. "Your face!" he wheezed.

"Glad you think it's funny." Merlin muttered. "I don't." and with that, he was bent over, gathering his own pile of snow.

The knights looked at each other, shrugging. Merlin's head snapped back up and his murderous expression was clear for all to see. "Run." He said quietly.

Run they did. They scattered around as Merlin began to hurl snowballs at a ridiculous pace. Most were hit with the exception of Gwaine who managed to dodge all of the ones coming for him. Arthur was not so lucky and ended up on the floor while Elyan tried not to laugh.

As they trooped back to the castle, Arthur turned to the group who were all shivering and rosy faced.  
"We never speak of this again, got it?"

The furious nods of heads and murmurs of agreement were enough to know that this event would never be mentioned. It would be erased from Camelot's history.

It was such a shame that that poor unsuspecting man from the lower town who had been hit with Gwaine's snowball was still around. He sat, looking down from his vantage point and vowed that the whole of the lower town would know by the time the day was over. It was just too good an opportunity to miss.

****Gwaine came up with Danger Days and you can't change my mind.****


End file.
